Disquietude

This night wears on and carries me, alone, through time that hangs in folds. I struggle to accept or see what happenings the future holds. I dread to peek behind the drape and find a day I can't escape, when all that's right and pure and good has disappeared from where it stood. I think I'll wrap myself in wool that blocks my sight and muffles sound and wait for time to gently pull me someplace where I can't be found. Perhaps I'll see that all is well, I didn't need my woolly shell, and all that's pure and good and right was there and waiting in the night.